Of all the things that Sonora Caldera thought she would be at her quinceañera, she hadn't taken 'utterly and completely bored' into consideration. Although, now that she thought about it, she'd never actually enjoyed any of her birthday parties. It was quite stupid of her to think that it would start now.

Now, what she had taken into consideration was 'beautiful'.

And that I am, she noted in satisfaction.

She sat regally on the vermillion velvet of her throne, her silver dress lighting up the room like it had been sewn from strands of moonlight itself. It pressed against her body, and she winced as she recalled the painful memory of squeezing into it. Her mother had 'accidentally' purchased it two sizes too small. But, somehow, she managed to 'accidentally' do that with all of Sonora's clothes. She supposed it was just the price to pay to be the heir of one of the most powerful gangs in the city of Brazea, The Blood Lilies - a seductive, deadly all-female band of honey-pots who loved their extravagant parties as much as they loved their various poisons and torture methods.

And they certainly loved their various poisons and torture methods.

Sighing, Sonora sat back in her chair, ignoring how the so-called velvet was as stiff as board, more akin to rough sandpaper than the luxurious fabric it purported to be. She stared out at the vast array of people that filled the banquet hall. Men and women adorned with jeweled masquerade masks gathered around cream-colored tables, accented with clusters of madonna and easter lilies, stained gold with glitter.

A few groups chatted near the buffet area. Golden laden candelabras held crimson candles, their flickering flames casting shadows that danced across the lavish spread of exotic fruits, delicate pastries, and rare delicacies from distant lands. Goblets of gleaming amber glass held wines and spirits that seemed to sparkle with an intoxicating allure. To top it off, a diamond chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling, gleaming in all its glory as light bounced off of it and scattered the guests in shards of luminescence. They'd all come here. For her.

It made her stomach turn.

As the orchestra shifted its tune to the melancholic notes of a waltz, the guests organized themselves into pairs. They moved across the floor, their steps measured and practiced, but devoid of any real connection.

It's all just a show, she thought bitterly. A dance of alliances, of appearances, and of maintaining the balance of power that just barely holds this hellhole of a city together.

Sonora's gaze wandered aimlessly, tracing the intricate patterns of the marble floor, her thoughts a million miles away from the spectacle surrounding her. The weight of her guests' stares sat heavily upon her, much like the ruby-studded silver mask resting atop her honey brown skin.

"Aren't you going to join in?" Her mother's sharp voice cut through her thoughts. Sonora reluctantly tore her gaze away from the floor to meet her mother's intense, copper-eyed stare, just barely obscured by her ebony mask.

Pierina Caldera, was a stunning woman in her own right, draped in silks so black that they blended seamlessly in with the shadows. Her mother's blood red lips (that had probably been tainted with actual blood at some point) were pressed into a firm line, and her perfectly arched eyebrows scrunched together as she gazed calculatingly at Sonora.

She knew that look. Sonora was all too familiar with the 'stop sitting there and go do something useful' look. Except, her mother's idea of 'something useful' could vary from doing her homework or flirting with the drug dealer next door. In this case, she meant for her to go sweet-talk the other heirs.

With a roll of her cinnamon eyes, Sonora rose from her throne, readjusting her mask as Pierina offered a proud smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her feet felt like they were encased in lead, each step towards the dance floor felt like torture. She scanned the hall, her eyes locking onto the figures of the other heirs. Four other kids destined to lead their own formidable gangs. Destined to be her enemies.

As the orchestra started up another song, the waltz swept her into its rhythm, and Sonora found herself in Tuan Voong's lean arms, the heir of The Glass Daggers.

A secretive and ruthless gang known for their expertise in assassinations, and strategizing, The Glass Daggers were the wealthiest of the five gangs. Tuan loved showing that fact off with his branded t-shirts and oversized jewelry. Even the mask he wore was bejeweled with shimmering pieces of stained glass and obsidian. Sonora guessed that that was the reason why his girlfriend, Arabella, liked him, for his money. It definitely wasn't for his nonexistent personality. Even when they were making out with a whole crowd of people squealing around them, his face remained cold and expressionless.

Like always.

He twirled her around, his grip firm but devoid of any warmth.

"You look exquisite tonight, Sonora," he remarked, his voice monotone as ever. As they moved through the dance, Sonora felt a surge of irritation mix in with her boredom. His words somehow managed to be more lifeless than his expression.

"Thank you, Tuan. You too." Sonora replied, giving him her most winning smile. He kept his mask up, only allowing her a nod before she spun again, into the waiting arms of Arabella Saban.

It was like being dropped into a different dimension. While Tuan was carefully put together and rehearsed, her movements were fluid and careless. It was like watching raindrops dance in a windstorm. She twirled her 'till she felt dizzy and dipped her so low Sonora had to hold back a laugh.

That was Arabella Saban. Heiress of The Storm Riders, the wild, outgoing motorcycle street gang that had recently taken over the west side of Brazea. Her mask gleamed a metallic teal in the light, a brighter color than that of her minidress as she grinned at Sonora.

Arabella was the girl anyone would die to be with and more. From her self-pierced ears filled in with hoop earrings the size of her ego and artfully styled orange-blue curls that ran down her back in twin braids, saying she was the life of the party was basically an understatement. Sonora bet she would've made a much better heir to The Blood Lilies, one that her mother might've actually liked.

"Ya'll really know how to throw a party! I ain't seen anything like this since-" Her voice, loud as it was, still got lost in the start of the new song as Sonora pirouetted away, finding her new dance partner.

As Sonora squinted up at his nervous green eyes, it took her a while to place his face - she'd only seen his ginger hair and smattering of freckles from behind a computer screen. He was one the youngest hair, his face still chubby with baby fat. Kester Wilson tugged anxiously at a strand of fiery red hair from behind his plain black mask.

She'd only seen the heir of the Fiends' a handful times, and that was through a screen. Sonora basically had to rack her brain for any memory of them even having a simple conversation. Unsurprisingly, she came up empty. It wasn't like she'd ever had to speak to Kester Wilson anyway. He was a sheltered, shy, and extremely spoiled kid whose father never let him out. There was no valuable information she could gain from him. She'd be surprised if he even knew what the Sun was.

Actually, she was more surprised that the Fiends' had even made it to the party. Sonora had half-expected a bunch of drones to come flying in to replace them. But here the tech nerds were, standing by the edges of the party, looking extremely uncomfortable.

The Fire Fiends were one of the less violent gangs, specializing in cybercrime and hacking instead of street fights and brawls. From what she knew, they operated from some sort of 'secret lair' in one of the run-down buildings around town. They weren't much of a problem...excluding the fact that they controlled at least 92% of the social media and communication throughout Brazea.

"Sonora? That's your name, right?" He said tentatively. She winced as he stepped on her foot and he blushed.

She sighed. "Yep. Kester?"

"You remember?" His eyes brightened.

"Don't get too excited darling, I remember a lot of things."

His expression dimmed and she felt a tiny stab of guilt. She pushed it, and herself away from him to her final dance.

Just one more, and I can get out of here. There's a loose tile in the ceiling of the bathroom. I just have to finish this and crawl up and out of this place.

Tattooed hands wrapped around her waist and she watched Flynn Turner smirk at her, pulling her much closer than any of her other dance partners had. His mask was a sea of blue with sapphires that dangled from the edges like dewdrops. One girl with a lacy white mask, who Sonora had seen kissing a few minutes ago, gave her an envious scowl as she watched the two dance.

Flynn Turner. The guy who dominated the underground fight club scene and a concerning amount of girls' beds. He was the heir of the Black Bones, an extremely poor but violent group who were into illegal gambling, underground weapon trafficking, and street-fighting. Especially the street-fighting.

"Heeeey...aren't you pretty tonight?" He whispered, his breath warming the tips of her ears. She only rolled her eyes. She knew this trick, it was the one she'd used on a thousand boys to get information out of them. He was just putting the charm on her to get her to slip up and reveal something.

"Cut the crap Flynn, I'm not in the mood."

He pouted. "I can't have a little fun?"

She snorted and muttered, "Asshole."

He only stared at her blankly and she raised an eyebrow.

She didn't really care if he'd heard her call him an asshole - he'd probably take it as a compliment actually. And she didn't think he was flirting with her anymore. If he was, he wouldn't be looking so...nervous? Was that the expression on his face? Or was it surprise? Maybe confusion? His eyebrows knitted together and he looked like he was going to open his mouth to say something-

He never got that far.

A pale hand came into view from behind him. Its slender fingers slithered up the side of his neck like centipedes and traced his upper lip with the tip of a sharp nail before clamping down on his mouth. Hard.

A cry pierced the air from behind her. Not from Flynn though.

Sonora was too confused to feel panicked even as it carried its lilting song of fear and horror across the room. A desperate gasp for air could be heard before screaming the chorus of their gruesome melody:

"SONORA-SONORA HELP ME, PLEA-"

Kester?

Sonora turned, her silver dress flaring up behind her, but all she saw were masks. An ocean of masked idiots yet she couldn't find the one she was looking for. What'd happened to that kid? A small part of her brain noted that she couldn't see Tuan or Arabella either.

She spun forward again to meet Flynn's stare.

Except it wasn't there.

His eyes were closed and his body was limp as a second hand slipped around his waist, pulling him even closer. This was looking less and less like a flirtatious dance move by the second. Although, that might've been because her sight was starting to blur...Also, there was something sweaty and warm fastened tightly around her throat-

It took her two seconds too long to realize that it had been a hand on her neck before the acrid smell of sleeping gas hit her and she fell headfirst into the dark void of unconsciousness.